Frozen In Time
by Sanqhian
Summary: Shawn's not doing too well... slash
1. Reassurance

**Title: **Frozen in Time

**Note: **This was supposed to be a bunch of short stories but...This is technically the first Psych story I wrote; even before my little Christmas short. Though the short got posted first. I don't expect much from this so...any reviews I get will be greatly appreciated.**  
**

* * *

**One: Reassurance**

_To make somebody feel less anxious or worried._

Shawn sat in the Psych office, all the lights off. The only glow coming from a street lamp outside, creating a pool of gray shadows near the window. The dark gave him some comfort, though not a lot. It had been a horrible day and he wanted nothing more than to forget the events that led to him being where he was, sitting in the dark. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the chair. He could hear the sounds of the city outside but within the confines of the office he only heard the steady beating of his heart. There was an almost painful throb in his arm and a subtle pain in his chest. The simple act of breathing only made that pain worse. He was afraid to move for fear of making matters even worse, forcing him to cry out in the dark confines of the office.

As he sat there he began to wonder where everybody was, what they were doing at that exact moment. He'd left Jules at the precinct to do her paperwork. Gus had been obligated to attend a family function that night, leaving Shawn with no one to hang out with. And his father, well, he figured his father was probably hanging out at some cop bar talking with officers, on the force and retired. That left him alone to wonder why he _was_ alone. After the day he'd had…

Then, much to his surprise, there came a subtle knock at the door. At first he didn't hear it, attributing it to the sounds of the city outside. But then it came again. From where he sat he looked toward the door, trying to decide if he should bother answering it or not. What if it was someone looking to be a client? He didn't want to deal with someone like that for at least another day or two. He hoped that with all the lights off that they would go away, get the hint that no one was around and leave. However, it didn't work that way. The person outside knocked again, this time a bit more forcefully, indicating that they weren't going to be going anywhere anytime soon. He grumbled, eased out of the chair and headed for the door. Who could possibly be calling on him?

He pulled open the door to find the last person he suspected. Letting his hand slide off the knob he headed back into the comfort of the darkness, seeking out the chair he'd spent the last hour sitting in. His suspicions were true; moving only made his chest hurt more. Carefully, moving like a man far older than him, he settled back into the chair. A minute later the door closed and a lamp was switched on, illuminating the room but leaving shadows along the edges.

"I'll take it from the fact that you're sitting in the dark that you aren't doing so well."

Shawn kept his eyes trained on the floor. "I'm fine."

"That's a lie. After all these years, trust me, I know when someone lies to me."

He let out a deep sigh, this time ignoring the pain in his chest, and closed his eyes. "What are you doing here, Lassiter? Don't you have better things to do with your time than coming to bother me?"

"Funny, Spencer, that sounds like something I should be saying to you," the detective remarked. From the sound of his voice Shawn could tell that he'd moved closer, further into the room.

"Can't you just leave me alone?"

"No," he said. "What happened…"

"Was my own fault," Shawn muttered in slight disgust.

Had he known that he was going to get into so much trouble he wouldn't have bothered walking into the precinct that day to see if they needed his help. He managed to fake his way through a good portion of the case, giving them clues that they missed here and there. But he hadn't been able to save himself. He kept kicking himself for not seeing the signs. His father had trained him to notice the small things, the little clues that a lot of people never noticed. He let out another deep sigh…

"Shawn?"

He opened his eyes, surprised to hear the detective use his first name.

"What happened to you…"

"Was my own stupidity," he said.

"Nobody saw it coming."

"_I_ should have seen it coming," Shawn said. He wanted to get up and pace the room, let his anger dissipate, his frustration out. But with movement came pain.

Lassiter moved closer, pulling up a chair so that he was sitting across from the injured psychic. "How long are you going to beat yourself up over this?"

Shawn shrugged. Much like his motorcycle accident he'd been alone when the attack happened. The guy jumped him out of nowhere, someone he didn't even recognize but later learned that he was the murderer. Shawn should have counted himself lucky to walk away with bruised ribs and a laceration on his arm. He'd had to fight to stay alive as the man came at him with a knife. He recalled how it felt to have the blade slice through the skin on his arm, the warmth of the blood. The knife came perilously close to cutting the main vein running through the lower half of his arm. As it was the vein had been nicked, making the paramedics a little panicked in getting him to the hospital. He'd been there for hours afterward waiting for someone to come and pick him up but there hadn't been anyone. He tried to call them, they wouldn't answer. At ten-o-clock he hitched a ride, had a cab drop him off that the Psych office. The last thing he wanted to do was burden his father, especially after the argument they had shortly following his motorcycle accident.

He looked at Lassiter in an attempt to understand why the detective, of all people, had come to see him. "Why are you here?"

"I heard what happened to you," he said, his eyes straying to the bandage that encased Shawn's arm.

"And?"

"I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

Shawn arched an eyebrow in surprise, and slight confusion. All this time he'd thought Lassiter hated him. Why did he care? "I'm fine," he repeated.

"No you're not," the detective remarked. "You're far from fine."

"I'll live," Shawn said. "And that's all that matters."

Lassiter smiled somewhat sadly. "Spencer, I've seen this before and I know for a fact that you are not fine. You're doubting your ability to do…whatever it is that you do. But you need someone to tell you that you are good at what you do. I don't exactly believe in your psychic abilities but you've proven to be very useful. Spencer…don't let this get you down."

Shawn actually smiled. "Lassie-face, I don't think I could ever stop bugging the hell out of you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Good, because as soon as my chest stops hurting I'm going to be back to my old self."

Lassiter smiled. "You promise?"

"Guarantee."

An awkward silence settled over them. Surprisingly Shawn began to find himself in better spirits. Usually he didn't get along with the detective but…He wasn't going to let it go to his head. This was probably just a gesture of kindness. Tomorrow they would be back to their old habits and Lassiter would be snapping at him, ignoring him. He kind of looked forward to it. For now…

"How about we order some pizza?" Shawn asked.

"Over your dead body, Spencer," the detective said as he stood up. He headed toward the door.

"Oh come on, you know you want to spend the night with me," teased the fake psychic.

Lassiter pulled open the door. Looking back over his shoulder he said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer."

"It's a date, Lassie-face."


	2. Insomnia

**Title: **Frozen in Time

**Note:** I'm not sure if I should post the rest of this...

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**Two: Insomnia**

_Inability to fall asleep or to remain asleep long enough to feel rested._

Shawn rolled onto his side, his eyes open when they should be closed. He should be far away in the world of dreams but instead he finds himself wide awake. The only light in the dark room is the glare of the alarm clock, its red numbers an aching reminder of the time as it slowly ticks by. He grumbled under his breath, his chest still in considerable pain. At least the throb in his arm had faded away. But he knew that neither one is why he can't sleep; there are other things that needed to be dealt with that kept him from drifting away on a blissful cloud of sleep. Rolling onto his back he stared at the ceiling, hoping that it might yield an answer or two but it doesn't. There's nothing there but shadows.

He closed his eyes thinking that maybe he can force himself to drift off. With his eyes closed he relived the attack on him; the blade of the knife slicing through his skin, the curses slung at him as he struggled. He saw Detective O'Hara come around the corner, her gun drawn, pointed that the suspect. But she had to wait before she could shoot, wait for that perfect moment when she knew the shot would be clear. Only after the report of the gun did he feel a sense of relief, even though there was a rather large amount of blood oozing down the length of his arm. He recalled looking at the man he'd been fighting with, the bullet having done more than attended, killing the man. Even as that thought dawned on him he didn't feel in the least bit upset by the way things had transpired. The guy had been a murderer and sure as day he would have killed Shawn if Juliet had stumbled across them.

She was also the one that called for an ambulance.

She hadn't been able to go to the hospital with him, though, having to stay behind to explain why she'd fired her weapon and why a guy was dead.

But that was a day ago. Everyone knew about his injuries, about his fight. There were words of encouragement and even a few jokes about it. Of course, there were moments of sympathy. All of them were long gone by now. It was almost like the situation had never transpired. Even his best friend, Gus, was acting like things were normal. Part of him was happy that they weren't dwelling on his misfortune but another part was depressed; it was like they didn't care anymore. An image of his father popped into his head. The ex-cop had nothing to really say to Shawn. He knew that his father loved him, in some twisted way, but he couldn't believe that his father hadn't shown even the slightest bit of concern over his son's injuries. Maybe after the motorcycle accident he'd had enough of worrying about his son's crazy antics. His father never did approve of his attempts to get people to believe he was an honest psychic and not some fraud; though he was the latter without a doubt. How could his father be mad at him? All those years of training when he was younger, all those games about noticing the little details…his father made him who he was.

He rolled onto his stomach, letting out a deep sigh. Yesterday had been any other day paling around with Gus and stopping by the precinct to see if anything was going on, if maybe there was a case that they could help with. There was nothing. But Shawn recalled the look he'd gotten from Lassiter. The detective had been sitting at his desk, the foot of one leg resting on the knee of the other while he read a file. Juliet had been planning to take her break for lunch when they arrived. She informed them of the lack of crime almost with a smile. For some reason Gus managed to get her into a conversation about cities and the falling or rising crime rates in each of them. That's when Shawn let his mind wander along with his gaze. He found Lassiter looking at him. It took him a minute longer to realize that the detective wasn't looking at _him._

He was looking at the bandage on Shawn's arm.

For some reason that bothered the fake psych and he interrupted the conversation, spiriting Gus away. Without a case to work Gus had returned to his job at the pharmaceutical company, leaving Shawn to wile away the hours alone in the Psych office. He watched a few made-for-TV-movies and played basketball with a bowl of popcorn and a trashcan. He kept hoping for a walk-in but as the hours passed he knew that it was going to be one of those days. And that's exactly what it turned out to be. He didn't hear from a soul for the rest of the day. So he'd headed home early and spent the night watching more movies. He even watched the news before going to bed to see if maybe there'd been a crime he wasn't told about. There was nothing.

Now it was nearly midnight and he still wasn't asleep.

All of a sudden he threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. He finally figured out what it was that kept him from sleeping. Grabbing a random T-shirt he pulled it on while walking out of his bedroom. His sneakers weren't by the door of his apartment like they should have been. He'd come home so bored that he kicked them. He found one under the coffee table and the other near the entrance to the kitchen. Slipping them on he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, making sure to lock it behind him.

----------------------------------------------------

Minutes later he found himself parked along the curb out front of a house. He let his hands slide from the steering wheel and climbed out of the car. The street was pretty dark, the lights off in the surrounding houses. A couple of doors down there was a streetlamp but the branches of a large oak tree obscured it. Without a second thought he made his way up the path to the front door where he knocked almost immediately. A few seconds passed in which nothing happened so he knocked again, a little bit louder than the first time. This time it brought results as a light within the house was turned on. He waited, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

A moment later the door opened.

"What the hell…"

"Can I come in?" he asked in a voice way to cheerful for the time of night.

"It's after midnight. Go away."

He stuck his foot in the door. "No can do. See, I can't sleep."

"So I guess I'm not allowed to sleep either?"

"Well…not really…it's just…" All of a sudden he found himself at a loss for words.

Lassiter stepped back away from the door, motioning with the pistol he held in his right hand to let Shawn know it was okay to come in. "You might as well get in here before someone calls the cops on you."

He stepped over the threshold and into the house. "Why would they call the cops on me?"

"Because of the way you're dressed," the detective said as he closed the door. He set the pistol on a small table in the entryway. "You're in your boxers, Spencer."

"Oh…" he said, looking down. He was indeed wearing only his boxers, no pants. He looked up at Lassiter who was wearing a pair of lounge pants and a wife-beater. All kinds of wiseass remarks went through his brain but he decided it wouldn't be wise to share them. "Can we talk?"

"Aren't we already?"

Shawn ignored him and wandered farther into the house until he found the living room. He fell onto the couch. When he saw that Lassiter had followed him he started talking. "Gus and I came by the precinct earlier today, do you remember?" He didn't wait for an answer but went on ahead talking. "He got into a most boring conversation with Jules about crime rates so I guess you could say I stopped paying attention, for the most part. That's about the time I noticed you looking at me…then I realized that you were looking at this," he said, holding up his bandaged arm. "And now I can't sleep."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Lassiter asked from his spot in the doorway.

"Tell me why…"

"Why what?"

Shawn had to keep going before he lost his cool. "Why were you the only one to show up the other night? Why were you looking at the bandage on my arm…?"

Knowing that if he didn't answer the younger man he would never get rid of him, Lassiter tried to think up a convincing lie. He was a detective, he heard lies every day. But try as he might he couldn't think of one that he knew would satisfy the phony psychic. Could he honestly tell him the truth? Day after day he went out of his way to make it clear how he felt about Shawn and the way he duped the chief, not stopping for a minute to let anyone think that he felt otherwise. In the beginning he really did hate the guy. Maybe because Shawn had made him look bad a few times. Now he found that times were changing. He was changing. There were still days when he couldn't stand Spencer but they were getting fewer and farther between. He was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, that he was possibly growing fond of the young man. And that was something he wasn't going to share.

So he shrugged it off. "I was worried, that's all. You got hurt…it's in my nature to care about people who have been hurt."

"You're lying," Shawn remarked.

"Sue me."

"Are you worth anything?"

"Spencer," he said, making it clear that the other man was trying his patience. I bother you for a glass of water?"

"Only if it will make you go away," he muttered loud enough for Shawn to hear as he turned toward the kitchen. He was only gone a minute or two but when he got back he found the fake psychic curled up on the couch fast asleep. Putting the glass of water on the table he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over him. He shut off all the lights before heading upstairs to return to his bed. However, when his head hit the pillow he knew that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep. Not with Shawn sleeping on the couch downstairs.


	3. Shuffle

**Title: **Frozen in Time**  
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**Three: Shuffle**

_Intransitive verb- to be deliberately evasive or shifty in addressing an issue_

When Lassiter got up the next morning he went about his routine as though Shawn had not interrupted him the night before. He had been able to drift off to sleep but only after laying in his bed staring at the ceiling for an hour or so. He hoped that a case wouldn't cross his desk today for the simple fact that he was going to be feeling pretty rundown by the time lunch rolled around. He also hoped that Juliet didn't go out of her way to figure out why he hadn't been able to get much sleep. He shouldn't have to explain himself to her. Especially when he didn't even understand the situation himself. One thing he couldn't get passed was why he had let Shawn sleep on his couch. The old Lassiter would have sent the fake psychic packing, slammed the door in his face. Was he getting soft?

He finished tying his tie as he made his way down the stairs, trying to figure out how the old him would send the younger man off. But he wasn't sure if he should be completely, outright mean. After all, Shawn had been hurt just the other day and he knew what it was like, that feeling that your life could end. He'd done battle with murderers before and it was never a pleasant experience. He would just have to tell Shawn to get out, that he couldn't hang out all day while he was at work. The idea of having the psychic having free range of his house unsettled him, but deep down it also thrilled him.

"Spencer-" he said as he stepped into the living room. The rest of the words died on his lips. The other guy was already gone, the blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions, the half-filled glass of water resting upon a coaster. He hadn't even heard the psychic leave and now…was he happy to find that Shawn was gone or did he feel disappointed that he wouldn't have another moment alone with him? There was little doubt in his mind that Shawn would show up at the precinct and pretend to have a psychic episode. Still, why did he feel let down?

He backtracked, heading toward the kitchen, shaking his head. Life had been much simpler without Shawn.

-----------------------------------------------

He fell into the chair behind his desk, placing the mug of steaming coffee in its usual spot. He was happy to note that there wasn't a message waiting for him to talk with the chief or a file waiting upon his desk. That meant that for the time being he had nothing to look forward to but a couple hours of paperwork. Though he hated the idea of spending a day sitting at his computer filling out forms at least he didn't have to worry about missing something at a crime scene because he was tired. Firing up the computer he settled in for the work ahead. As the computer monitor flashed on he haphazardly looked over at Juliet's desk only to find that she wasn't in yet. There wasn't even a cup of coffee waiting, like she'd walked away for a minute. He frowned, wondering why his partner was running late. He may not have gotten a lot of sleep but he still made it in on time. He wondered if he should give her a hard time about it.

Then decided that it would probably lead to a road he didn't want to go down.

She arrived just as he was finishing the first piece of paperwork. She settled at her desk without much of an explanation, just started working. She didn't even say 'hi' or 'good morning' and for some reason that bothered him. He managed to get half way through the next form before he couldn't take it anymore.

"Where were you?"

She looked up, almost surprised that he had spoken to her. "Personal matter."

"Okay…"

Juliet stopped what she was doing and looked at him, really looked at him. "You look tired, Carlton. Did something keep you up last night?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, wondering what her motive was. "None of your business."

"All right," she shrugged.

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Lunch rolled around and he felt a bit anxious. He hadn't seen or heard from Shawn since last night. He wasn't exactly sure why he cared so much but he thought of maybe stopping by the Psych office since he was going on his break. Grabbing his stuff he headed toward his car, unlocking the driver's side door. He was about to climb behind the steering wheel when he heard someone calling his name. It was Juliet.

"What?"

She was a little out of breath after jogging to catch up with him. "Chief just handed us a case, said we could have a quick lunch but that we were to start this today."

"Whatever," he muttered as he watched her walk around the car.

He headed toward the Psych office anyway, ignoring the chatter of his partner in the seat beside him. She was trying to fill him in on the case but he just couldn't pay her any attention. He was trying to think of an excuse for going to see Shawn. He should have just forgot about his little side trip but for some reason he felt compelled to see how Shawn was doing, to see if he had improved since yesterday. But as he pulled into the parking lot he noticed right off the bat that there wasn't anybody at the Psych office. He didn't even see Gus's little blue company car. He frowned, pulling to a stop before the big window with the word Psych on it.

Juliet leaned forward in her seat, looking at the building. "Why are we here?"

"I…" he tried to think of something, anything. "Just wanted to see how Spencer was doing."

"Doesn't look like he's here…" she said.

"No, I guess he's not," Lassiter said. Giving the building one last glance he pulled back into traffic and headed toward the crime scene. He somehow managed to get there without getting into an accident even though his mind was focused on one thing; where was Shawn?


	4. Imposter

**Title: **Frozen in Time**  
**

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**Four: Imposter**

_Somebody who makes false claims of identity_

Lassiter tried to hide the smile on his face. When he arrived at the crime scene with Juliet he saw the familiar blue car that Gus drove. And since Gus wasn't really a fan of the whole crime investigation it meant that he'd been dragged here by Shawn. Though Lassiter wasn't too happy to learn that the psychic had made it to the scene before him, though he wasn't surprised by it, he didn't exactly look forward to having to deal with Shawn and his antics. All the fake answers that he got from his 'psychic' abilities. He parked the unmarked police car behind Gus's blue car and shut off the engine. A few officers were looking around the scene, making sure to keep people away and there were even a few doing their jobs by interviewing the growing crowd to locate any witnesses.

Lassiter felt hopeful that his day was about to get better. For reasons unknown to him he was still worried about the other man. Something inside of Shawn had changed after he'd been attacked. He couldn't tell if the others noticed it but he definitely did. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the psychic had shown up at his door in the middle of the night just to ask him a question. Just as something had changed with Shawn something in the relationship between the two of them was different. Only he didn't quite understand what it was.

He followed Juliet into the house thinking that maybe he would make her the primary on the case just so that he would have excuses for not really noticing things. But he still had his pride so he decided to handle the case like he normally would. They found the bodies in the living room where an officer stood with the coroner. The two of them were talking in hushed tones. When they saw Lassiter the tone of their conversation quickly changed. A sure sign that they had been talking about something other than work. He ignored it, knowing that he wasn't always one hundred percent cop while on the job, though he did try damn hard to be.

"What have we got?" he asked, looking at the bodies.

"Looks like a murder-suicide," the coroner responded. "But I won't know for sure until I get the bodies back for an autopsy. Right now it looks like he killed her, then killed himself."

Lassiter looked at the uniformed office. "Is there anything to suggest that it might have been something else? Maybe like a home invasion gone wrong?"

The officer shrugged. "I didn't see anything out of place. We searched the house and everything seems to be neat and orderly. Nothing upstairs was even disturbed."

He knew that this was about the time that Shawn jumped into the room with his wild accusations to point out something that the others had missed. He found that he was actually waiting for it to happen. But a heartbeat passed and nothing happened. When a minute passed he began to get a little uncomfortable waiting for something to happen. He took out a little notebook and began to write things down while Juliet did a slow walk around the perimeter of the room. That's when he realized that she was waiting for the same thing. He found that it bothered him that he'd become reliant on Shawn and his fake psychic abilities. The guy went about the whole thing wrong but he was still damn good at what he did. Shawn would make a good cop, Lassiter realized. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

Juliet stopped and picked up a picture. Then set it back amongst the others before picking up another one. "Wow…"

"What?" Lassiter asked.

She picked up the first picture and showed him both framed photos. "The guys in these photos aren't the same. And neither one of them is the dead guy sitting on the couch."

"The guy on the couch has a wedding band," he observed. "Those guys could be her brothers…"

Juliet took another look at them. "They both have wedding rings, too."

There came the sound of someone knocking something over and they all turned to look. Gus stood in the doorway with a soda in his hand. He'd come around the corner and accidentally knocked over an umbrella stand. He looked sheepishly at them, picking up the downed umbrellas and setting everything to rights. "Sorry," he apologized. "Have you guys seen Shawn?"

"Maybe he's in the backyard," Lassiter said, making sure to add some anger and annoyance to his words.

"No, I meant, have you seen him at all? He wasn't at the office this morning so I ran by his father's place when he wouldn't answer the door at his apartment or his phone. I thought maybe he heard about this call and was here…"

"He's your friend, you should be able to keep an eye on him," Lassiter remarked, turning back to the crime scene. He had to hide the fact that he was bothered by Gus's words. None of them had seen Shawn yet that day. In fact, from the sounds of things he was the last one to see Shawn at all. He hoped that it didn't come out. The last thing he wanted was for the others to think that he'd done something to Shawn. He hadn't exactly shown the psychic his best side, especially when other people were around.

An officer came in through the front door, a bewildered look on his face. "Detective, there's a guy out here going crazy. He says he knows what happened, that he's a psychic."

Lassiter looked from Juliet to Gus and knew instantly that they were thinking the same thing he was; Shawn. The three of them followed the officer out the door to find a young man with brown hair trying to convince the officers and bystanders that he was a psychic and that he knew all the answers to the crime. Unfortunately the man wasn't Shawn. Seeing the man at the crime scene trying to come across as something he wasn't really irked the detective. He walked over to the young man and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, spinning him around. When they were standing face to face he had to give the guy credit for keeping his cool. But he knew that it would only be a matter of a minute before he ruined the guy for sure.

"Why are you here?"

"I know what happened," the guy claimed.

"Then tell me."

"The man shot his wife," the guy said. That part looked to be true. He went on. "Then he packed a few belongings, emptied their banks accounts and left with his girlfriend."

Lassiter looked at the nearest uniformed officer. "Arrest this guy."

"Sure thing," the officer said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

The three friends watched as the imposter was dragged toward a police car trying to get himself out of the predicament. All three of them were wondering what had become of their own imposter psychic. Lassiter, more than anyone else, was unsettled by the missing man. He made a mental note to check with Spencer senior when he got a free moment. Something had to be up.


	5. Letter

**Title: **Frozen in Time

**

* * *

**

**Five: Letter**

_A piece of handwritten or printed text addressed to a recipient._

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. They learned that the wife had taken out a large life insurance policy on her husband back at the beginning of the year. That gave her motive for killing him and as Lassiter explained, if the husband found out that gave him a reason to be suspicious. He could have been looking into his wife's affairs and found something he didn't like, a motive for him to kill her. When he shared that with Juliet she told him that he was crazy, that he was letting his own failed marriage play a part in the investigation. That comment made him grumble under his breath and shoot her a dirty look. It had nothing to do with his failed marriage. No matter how much digging he did he could find no other reason for the couple to be dead. Everyone in the neighborhood loved them. They both had well paying jobs with bosses considering raises. They even donated a nice sum of money each month to various charities and programs. It sickened Lassiter somewhat. They were like the perfect couple with no faults whatsoever. But someone killed them so that told him that they slipped up somewhere. He just had to find where…

And on top of the case he had to figure out what happened to Shawn, without letting anyone know that he cared. That wasn't exactly the easiest thing. He wanted to talk with Juliet, maybe throw out some ideas, share some theories. But to suddenly show concern for someone that he usually hated to have around would only make her curious. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out that he was falling for the fake psychic. If that was truly what was happening to him. For some reason he couldn't get Shawn off his mind and he hoped that it was simply because the other guy was currently MIA.

The end of shift couldn't come fast enough for him. But even when the clock told him his day was done he remained behind for a half hour to make it look like he was consumed in his work. Only when the chief told him to get lost did he finally gather up his things and leave the precinct behind. As planned he headed straight for Mr. Spencer's house to ask the retired cop if he had seen his son at all that day, or if he'd even had contact with Shawn. While on the drive over he tried to think of a convincing story to tell Shawn's father. He could claim that Gus and Juliet were worried but afraid to approach him, something along those lines. He pulled into the driveway thinking that it might just work.

Getting out of his car he headed toward the front door where he knocked. A few seconds later the older Spencer opened the door. The two of them had a weird friendship. Though they both loved fishing there were kinks and bumps in the road that needed to be worked out along the way. Lassiter knew that it was usual since two cops, retired or not, rarely, if ever, saw eye to eye. Each one had their own method and their own theories. Tonight it didn't matter. The only thing he cared about was finding Shawn.

"Carlton, what can I do for you?" Henry asked.

"I'm here regarding Shawn…"

Henry frowned. "He didn't get himself into trouble again, did he? That boy…"

"Well, I'm not really sure. Juliet and I worked a crime scene today but Shawn never showed up to be his usual annoying self. Though Gus did make sure to swing by and ask if we'd seen him. Just wondered if you'd seen him or if maybe we need to start looking into this as a disappearance."

"No," the older man shook his head. "I haven't seen or heard from him today but that doesn't surprise me. I'm not exactly his favorite person."

That made Lassiter smile. "And I thought I got that title."

For some reason Henry smiled. "You have no idea, do you?"

"About what?" Lassiter asked in complete confusion. What didn't he know about?

"Not my place to say anything," he answered, taking the high road. "When you find Shawn you'll have to talk to him about it."

"But I don't even know what it is that I'm supposed to ask him about!"

"Trust me, you'll figure it out," Henry said before closing the door. Lassiter heard the familiar click that meant the lock had been slipped into place.

Getting the message that the conversation was over he headed back toward his car. When he slipped behind the wheel he tried to figure out what his next move should be but all he could think to do was head home. Shawn wasn't with his father and he wasn't at the Psych office; he'd looked before coming here. He realized that he wasn't quite ready to drive back the psychic's apartment for fear of running into Gus or Juliet and having to explain himself. For some reason he found himself reluctant to exhibit any feelings for the other man in front of others. As he drove toward his house he thought about what Mr. Spencer had said. What exactly had Shawn said to his father?

He pulled into the driveway and decided not to put his car in the garage, stepping out into the cool night. The last rays of the sun colored the horizon but he could already see the shine of stars in the inky sky. He took the short trip down to his mailbox to gather what he knew would be bills and junk mail. Then he went through his usual routine; tossing his keys on a table and removing his shoes and tie. The mail he dropped on a counter. He fished through the fridge for something refreshing to drink and possibly something to eat. Thinking about dinner always turned out to be a last priority with him. Putting a can of soda on the counter he began to shuffle through the collection of envelopes and advertisements.

One envelope caught his attention.

It bore only his name.

No return address, no stamp. Someone slipped this into his mailbox.

Frowning, he tore it open and dumped the folded piece of paper into his hand. He unfolded the lined paper to read the short message inside. When he was done he read it again and then a third time just for the hell of it. The words began to sink in as he refolded the paper. Now he understood what Henry had been talking about.


	6. Caught

**Title: **Frozen in Time**

* * *

**

**Six: Caught**

_Past tense of catch; to capture or seize._

Shawn kicked the pebble across the parking lot, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He'd removed the bandage from his arm earlier that morning because he knew that if he kept it on he would stand out more. With the baseball cap pulled down low he passed for the average Joe and no one would recognize him right off the bat. That was exactly how he wanted it. The bulk of his cell phone in his back pocket kept constantly reminding him of the friends he'd left behind, though he'd really only gone to the next town over to get a little time away, some time to clear his head and think. He knew that he should have called his father or at least Gus to let them know he was okay but for some reason every time he went to make the call he chickened out. Well, maybe not exactly chickened out but he found that he just couldn't make the call. Something stopped him every single time. He could dial the numbers but not press the 'call' button.

And he didn't really understand why.

Today, though, he figured that he would head back home. Despite leaving everyone behind so that he could have some peace and quiet to think about things he hadn't done a lick of thinking. At least not about what he really needed to sort out; and that was his relationship with one Carlton Lassiter. How could he have known that first day when he strolled into the precinct that he would meet someone that changed his life? How could he have known that pretending to be a psychic would place him near Detective Lassiter almost every day for the next couple of months? He never expected that the abrasive detective would feature prominently in his dreams. Of course, he kept his feelings to himself for the simple fact that Lassiter made it perfectly clear how he felt. If being Lassiter's friend, if one could call it that, was all he was going to get then he would have to settle.

Or so he thought.

Something in the detective had changed since the attack. He seemed almost concerned about Shawn and that made him feel hopeful that the detective might share his feelings. That's why he left the letter before leaving town. It's also why he planned to visit Lassiter first thing when he got back in. Pulling his keys out of his pocket he unlocked the driver's side door. He turned on the car and fiddled with the radio stations before putting the car in gear and pulling out of the parking lot.

-----------------------------------------------------------

He stopped off for a bit of gas and a snack when he finally got back to town. Little did he know that his little side trip would prove to be a slightly bad idea, another star in the run of bad luck he'd been having as of late. Had he been paying attention he would have noticed the shifty looking guy hanging out near the back of the store. He would have noticed the bulge in the guy's shirt. He would have noticed the black skull cap that this particular guy decided to wear even though it was spring in California. But he wasn't paying attention and that ended up being his downfall.

---------------------------------------------------------

Juliet ran outside to find her partner eating a sandwich while sitting on the trunk of his red sedan. She recalled the warning he'd given her before leaving his desk, making it explicitly clear that he didn't want to be bugged while on his lunch break. But this was urgent. He would just have to eat his sandwich while on the drive.

"Carlton," she called.

He looked back over his shoulder at her and instantly looked pissed. "Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

"There's a hostage situation at a gas station."

"And? That's not exactly our area of expertise, O'Hara," he replied, gazing back out toward the horizon and taking another bite of his sandwich.

She went around the car so that she was standing in his line of sight. "Gus went to see if he could find Shawn and he did…as one of the hostages."

------------------------------------------------------

The hours passed frighteningly slow, the sun sinking closer and closer to the horizon. Lassiter paced the parking lot as the negotiator tried to bring the hostage situation to a close. The guy inside was impossible to deal with. Just when everyone thought things were about to come to an end the guy would change his demands, ask for more stuff that ended up drawing out the hours even more. He looked to his right to see Juliet huddled close to Gus. Henry was a standing by the guy in charge, never letting the guy forget that his son was one of the hostages. Meanwhile, Lassiter had never felt quite so hopeless before. He hated sitting on the sidelines.

He was about to turn and start back the other way when a shot rang out. He heard Juliet cry out while someone else started yelling. There was chaos for the next few minutes and it only served to confuse him more as he tried to figure out whether or not the shot came from inside the gas station.

"Don't be a hero," he muttered under his breath.

In the frenzy of chaos no one noticed the person slipping out the side door and bolting down the sidewalk. But Carlton noticed him and without missing a beat took off after him. Though the person in black got a head start that didn't exactly mean that they were going to get away. Lassiter was used to chasing after perpetrators. And this time he was full of adrenaline, hell bent on catching the guy and getting back to make sure that Shawn was okay. He followed the running figure around the next corner only to find himself in an alley. The man that had been running stood his ground, his back to Lassiter. The detective drew his gun but kept it pointed at the ground. There was no reason to shoot someone who just stood there. He was about to call out to the man when the figure moved. Lassiter moved even faster, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt and pushing him up against the brick wall to their left. His suspect fought against him and managed to turn around, his back resting against the brick wall.

"Shawn…?" Lassiter said out of sheer surprise, holstering his weapon.

"Hey," the fake psychic tried to smile.

"What the hell…"

"I…"

On some unknown impulse he leaned forward. In the next instant he was surprised to find himself sharing a kiss with the psychic. He was even more surprised to feel the tug on his suit jacket as Shawn pulled him closer.


	7. Phobia

**Title: **Frozen In Time**  
**

* * *

**Seven: Phobia**

_An irrational or very powerful fear and dislike of something._

After the kiss it was nearly impossible for the two of them to return to the gas station. But as Lassiter explained they really had no choice but to go back. If the standoff was over then the hostages would be coming out, everyone would be looking for Shawn only to find that he wasn't there. It could create problems, especially with his father who sometimes had issues with keeping his anger in check. But only when it came to his son. The detective was bothered by the fact that he had to coerce Shawn to go back. What had happened to the sometimes bubbly and upbeat psychic? His mood and personality had changed so much in the last few days that he was almost like a different person.

As they walked toward the sidewalk Lassiter tried not to think about the kiss. It happened purely on instinct but that didn't mean that it was right. Up until now he hadn't been aware that he liked guys. All his life he'd date girls; through high school and college, even in the police academy. He married a woman, too. Of course, the marriage ended in divorce and she'd been a little bit bitter about the whole thing. Maybe there was a reason why his marriage came to an end. It could have been that his wife knew something about him that he didn't know; the fact that he liked guys. He wondered if the feelings had always been there or if it was something new, something sparked by the presence of Shawn. There was a good chance that he would never know.

Then his course of thinking shifted slightly, his thoughts turning to Shawn. Were the feelings new to the psychic or had he always known that guys were his style? Was there anything beyond friendship between him and Gus? He banished that thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Gus definitely liked Juliet. But then again, so did Shawn. He furrowed his brow in confusion. By the time shift ended he was going to be confused to the point of not being able to sleep. He never realized that trying to make sense of his feelings could be so damn…impossible.

Only one thing remained definite; he was happier with Shawn around.

But he wouldn't tell anyone that.

Expect for maybe Shawn.

If he ever got up the courage. Though the kiss…

He let out a shaky sigh, running a slightly trembling hand through his hair.

"Something wrong?" Shawn asked. How could his voice sound so casual after what transpired between them?

"Fine, just thinking about how much of an idiot you are," he replied. The minutes the words left his mouth he regretted them; he wanted to take them back. If he planned to ever love Shawn he was going to have to change his attitude, at least while it was just the two of them. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so harsh."

"Sure," Shawn remarked dryly.

Lassiter chose to remain silent as they arrived back at the gas station. As he had expected Mr. Spencer was yelling at one of the uniformed officers while Gus and Juliet tried to calm him down. They were all worried about Shawn. Someone saw them and said something. The next thing Lassiter knew Juliet had run across the parking lot and thrown herself at Shawn, hugging him. Gus and Mr. Spencer showed more restraint but the detective could tell that they were happy to see him alive and well.

"Where were you?" his father asked.

"I…um…I ran," Shawn answered.

"You ran?"

Shawn shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest. "The gun went off and…I just kept seeing that guy's face, feeling that blade…" He visibly shuddered.

"You got scared," Gus said somewhat quietly.

When Lassiter saw Juliet place a comforting hand on Shawn's arm he felt a wave of jealousy. He wanted to be the one that comforted Shawn. "It's okay," she told him. "Everybody gets scared sometime, it happens."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

He sat at the table, leaning back in the chair and somewhat slouched. One hand rested atop the table gripping a glass of whiskey. He moved his hand slightly to the side and listened to the slosh of liquid and clink of ice cubes. Droplets of water ran down the sides of the class as the room temperature created condensation. Outside the sun had finally set and the lights of the city glowed. Another day had gone by, another day in a long line of endless days, never ending weeks. Only this time around things had changed in his life. He wasn't the same person anymore. Inside of him were feelings that had been lying dormant for a long time, feelings that were slowly starting to drown him. As the day had wound down he found it harder and harder to concentrate on his job, asking people to repeat themselves when they said something. By the end of shift Juliet was convinced that something had transpired between him and Shawn, she just couldn't figure out what.

There came a knock at his front door. He thought about letting the person on the other side stand there. Hopefully they would get the idea and leave him alone. But a few minutes later they knocked again. Grumbling under his breath he got out of the chair and headed for the door. A few choice phrases ran through his mind as he planned to send whoever it was packing. He wasn't exactly in the mood for company. He'd been planning to spend the night deep in thought, not entertaining. When he finally opened the door he was surprised to find Shawn standing there.

"Spencer…"

"Why can't you ever use my name?" the psychic asked as he pushed his way into the house.

Lassiter closed the door. "Old habits."

"We need to talk," Shawn said, being upfront.

"No kidding."

Despite stating the obvious Shawn didn't say anything. He just stood there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The expression on his face was unreadable, though he did look to be deep in thought.

Lassiter figured that the only way he would get to go back to brooding would be to get this over and done with. "How long have you known?"

"Quite a few years now," admitted Shawn. "Gus knows and I'm pretty sure my father knows but we never talk about it. We rarely talk about anything unless I've disappointed him so I'm taking his silence as a good sign."

"Years," Lassiter mused. "That explains why you behave so…crazy and flighty."

"I'm not flighty."

"Three words, Spencer," Lassiter said. "Dazzle and stretch. Need I say more?"

"Oh, don't play it off like you didn't enjoy that little show. After all I did sit in your lap." A grin spread across Shawn's face, a sparkle appearing in his eyes; which Lassiter realized were a lovely shade of blue. Or were they green? Maybe they were a mix of colors. Every time the light hit them from a different angle…

Lassiter took a step back. "I'm not like you, Spencer. This….thing between us…I don't know what it is."

"You know what it is," Shawn said. "You're just afraid to admit how you feel."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"No, I'm not."

Shawn smiled again. "Do you really want this to go on?"

Despite himself Lassiter felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "How can you be so annoying one minute and…"

"And what? Cute the next?"

"Spencer."

"Okay, okay," Shawn said, putting his hands up like he was innocent. "But seriously, dude, you have to figure this out."

"And if I don't?"

Shawn walked passed him and pulled open the front door. Looking back over his shoulder with a mischievous grin on his face he said, "I'll be forced to help you make the decision."


	8. Forgiveness

**Title: **Frozen in Time

**

* * *

**

**Eight: Forgiveness**

_The act of pardoning somebody for a mistake or wrong doing._

She heard someone call her name, looking up from the book she was reading Juliet saw Gus walking toward her. She waved and smiled, happy to see him. This was her day off; she wanted to make the best of it. Having gone to her favorite café, she grabbed one of the outside tables and settled in for a long afternoon of relaxing. Now that she was going to have company she realized just how awkward it was to be off for the day. She felt this weird sense of being disconnected from everyone else. It didn't really sit all that well with her. Gus took a seat in the chair across from her, a smile on his lips. She returned the gesture, wondering where Shawn was; it was unusual to see one without the other.

"Enjoying your day off?" Gus asked in a casual tone.

"As much as one can," she replied.

"Missing Lassiter or something?"

She laughed lightly. "I don't think anyone can really miss Lassiter. He's so…abrasive. I'm sure that he means well and all but…" She shrugged, unsure of how to voice her feelings. She did care about her partner but sometimes it was hard to get along with him. He had his own way of doing thins; which usually rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. He was also a damn good detective so she tried to learn as much as she could from him.

Gus had a knowing look on his face when he said, "I know someone who would miss him."

"Really?" she asked, all serious now. When had she last heard some good gossip? Hanging out with guys all day didn't really compare to some quality time with the girls. And she just couldn't help but be curious about this person; someone missing Lassiter? That was someone she had to meet. "Who is it?"

"One guess…" Gus said, smiling.

Something about his smile made her falter. She began to search her mind, going back over the last few months to see if maybe she could figure out who the person was. Slowly it began to come to her. The way that Shawn was always around, even though Lassiter was anything but nice to him. How sometimes he would look hurt, truly hurt, when Lassiter said something rude and turned him away. Then she found herself wondering why she hadn't noticed it before. Maybe because she'd been so caught up in her job, trying to stay on Lassiter's good side. Still, there had been a lot of little things, all of which she should have caught.

"Shawn…and Lassiter?" she mused, the whole thing sounding wrong while oddly seeming right.

Gus nodded. "Just don't tell Shawn that I told you. He doesn't want everyone to know."

She slowly shook her head, stunned into silence.

And it was that same silence that made Gus frown. "Juliet? Something wrong? I mean…you aren't bothered by Shawn being bisexual, are you?"

"No, not at all," she smiled assuredly. "I'm just worried about how Lassiter would take knowing. He doesn't really seem like the type…Shawn bugs him."

"From what I understand, from the things that Shawn has told me," Gus said, leaning across the table. "Lassiter already knows."

Juliet's eyes grew wide with surprise. "Is there anything…you know, going on between them? 'Cause Lassiter really needs to get laid. It might improve his mood."

This time it was Gus who found himself chuckling.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unlike Juliet, Lassiter didn't have the day off. It had been offered to him but he turned it down, intending to keep himself busy with work. He kept replaying in his mind the last conversation he had with Shawn and it made doing his job that much harder. He hated the psychic. He hated him with a fiery passion. He hated Shawn…did he hate Shawn? The other man could be so annoying at times, rubbing the detective the wrong way. But there were moments when Lassiter liked having him around, not that he would openly admit it to anyone. He had played up his dislike for Shawn so well that now it seemed as though he would have to keep it up, for the sake of his reputation. His was the best damn detective working for the Santa Barbra Police Department and he wasn't going to give anyone reason to doubt him, to not pay attention to him when he made orders.

And yet, he'd been sitting at his desk for three hours and still hadn't finished one report.

"Go home, Carlton," Karin said. "Stop trying to impress me by looking like you're doing work when all you are really doing is daydreaming."

"I'm not daydreaming."

"Go home," she said. The sound of her voice told him that it would best if he listened and left. Smiling somewhat distractedly he gathered his things and walked out of the building. Once outside in the bright California sun he found Shawn, the object of his frustration, leaning against his car. He thought about turning around and heading back into the building; maybe hiding somewhere that neither Shawn nor his boss could find. But it was too late. The fake psychic had been waiting for him, watching the door, biding his time.

"Lassy!" exclaimed Shawn.

Lassiter felt his shoulders slump lightly and an increase in the beat of his heart. He couldn't tell if the latter was out of anger or something else. Maybe he knew and just didn't want to admit it to himself. "What do you want, Spencer?" he asked as he met the psychic at the bottom of the stairs.

"Gee, sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed."

The detective checked his watch. "I'm surprised to see that you're even out of bed. Isn't it a little early for you?"

"Aw, come on," Shawn started. When Lassiter unlocked the doors of his car Shawn slipped into the passenger seat before the detective could lock them again. "You can't get rid of me that easily. You should know that by now."

"Spencer, I'm only going to say this once," he said. "Get out of my car."

"And if I don't?"

"Spencer!"

Shawn put his hands up, palms facing the detective. "Okay, okay. I get it; you want to be crabby today."

He heard the disappointment in Shawn's voice and for some reason it made him feel bad. He hated where this was going but saw no other way to rectify the situation. Even just thinking about saying the words made him feel a touch nauseous. "I'm…sorry."

"Really?"

Lassiter threw him a look.

Shawn smiled. "Okay. Now that that's out of the way."

"Get out," Lassiter interrupted. He could see a few of the uniformed officers looking their way and he didn't want them to get any ideas. He couldn't let them think that he had gone soft.

"Even after all that-"

"Spencer, out!"

"Message received," Shawn said. He opened the passenger door and slipped out. Leaning over he said, "It's nice to see that some things don't change." Then he closed the door. A second later the detective pulled away so he didn't hear what Shawn said next. "I just wish that other things would."


	9. Fantasy

**Title: **Frozen In Time**

* * *

**

**Nine: Fantasy**

_An unrealistic or impractical idea._

Shawn lay in his bed, his hands behind his head, his eyes gazing up at the stark white ceiling. He was trying to make sense of where his life was going, trying to understand the events as they played out. His arm no longer hurt and the pain in his chest had completely disappeared. All that remained to haunt him about his near death experience were the memories that he could not get out of his mind. Those would always be there, though with time they would also fade. He looked forward to that day when he could get up and not think about the knife cutting through his skin…

Letting out a deep sigh he closed his eyes. It was because of the accident that he finally decided to act on his feelings for Lassiter, knowing the entire time that the detective probably didn't feel the same. He had to do something, though. Having feelings for someone but never sharing them was hard to deal with. He couldn't take being around the detective and not actually being _with_ him. And there lurked in the back of his mind the fear that Lassiter would find someone else to take home at night. There was a time and place for everything; time had come for him to make his moves. That's why he kept putting himself out there, making it known to Lassiter how he felt. He felt like the attempts weren't going anywhere until that moment in the alley when he found the detective kissing him. That had been a real shock, one that he enjoyed and hoped to eventually enjoy again. Life was cruel. As quickly as he began to feel things were finally going to work out the old Lassiter came back and he felt like he was back at square one. There had to be a way to bridge the gap between them…there just had to be.

He thought about calling Juliet and telling her. If anyone knew Lassiter inside and out it would be his current partner. Well, his ex-wife probably knew a lot about him but Shawn didn't know anything about the ex-Mrs. Lassiter. And he didn't want to drag her into this; she could twist it around and help drive Lassiter even farther away. There was absolutely no way he would do that. And he knew that if he called Gus he would hear how he was bothering him, keeping him from doing this and that. There was no way in hell he would bring his dad into this; Henry Spencer always had his own agenda, even when he chose to be helpful. Shawn didn't want to put up with that.

This was something he would have to do on his own.

He kept working at being this chirper, crazy psychic that they all knew, that everyone expected him to be, but at that moment he wasn't feeling particularly chipper. He wanted to put an end to the problem; finally find out one way or the other if this was ever going to become more between them.

Someone knocked at his door. Grumbling under his breath he rolled off the bed and left his room behind, walking toward the door. When he pulled it open he was surprised to see Lassiter. He'd been expecting Gus or maybe even Jules since she had the day off. A stream of questions and wise remarks ran through his mind but his tongue refused to co-operate.

"Are you going to let me in or do I have stand here all night?" growled Lassiter.

Still unable to say anything he stepped back from the door and watched as the object of his affection walked into his apartment. He closed the door, the click of the lock sounded deafening to his ears.

"Something wrong?"

Shawn shook his head.

"I never thought I would see the day, Spencer," commented Lassiter. "You finally have nothing to say."

He swallowed.

Lassiter shrugged. "I didn't really come here to talk anyway."

Shawn began to wonder what a heart attack felt like because he was pretty sure he was going to have one.

"I was wondering…" Lassiter said as he took a step closer.

Instinctively Shawn took a step back. He was meant with resistance, his back up against the door. He swallowed again.

"What would you do…" The detective's voice had gotten a little softer, more hushed.

Almost seductive, Shawn thought.

There was barely room between them when Lassiter stopped, his hands going to either side of Shawn, palms flat on the door. He leaned forward and brought his lips to meet Shawn's. The fake-psychic's surprise quickly turned into a warm glow of desire. He could feel every single spot where their bodies met, could feel the warmth flowing off the detective, could smell the unique aroma of him. Shawn wanted to reach out and touch Lassiter, to draw him closer but he couldn't move. Caught up in the heat of the kiss the rest of his body failed to respond to the signals his brain sent. The moment was finally here and he couldn't seize it.

After a moment Lassiter broke the kiss but kept his mouth close. "I've been wanting to do that for some time now."

He felt the air go out of him as his body hit the floor. Looking around he realized that he was alone in his bedroom. He must have drifted off at some point while contemplating his problem. Which meant that the kiss from Lassiter never happened. He let out a disgruntled sigh before picking himself up. In the bathroom he turned on the shower, leaving the water cold. There had to be something he could do because taking cold showers didn't really work anymore. All he really needed was to share one more kiss with the detective to see if there was anything brewing between them. And if not, he would do his best to forget his feelings…


	10. Noisy

**Title: **Frozen In Time**

* * *

**

**Eleven: Noisy**

_Making a loud or annoying noise._

He didn't sleep well that night, tossing and turning as his dreams proved to be haunting. When he awoke the blankets were twisted around him, suffocating him. It took him a good ten minutes to free himself from their hold and when he did he threw the blankets on the floor. A thin layer of sweat covered his body. Why did he feel like he was falling apart? There had been a time when he was happy, bouncy, someone that always got up on the right side of the bed, so to speak. Now he was having trouble finding that person. Had the others noticed that he wasn't himself anymore, that he'd changed so much in a matter of days? And he traced it all back to that day when the guy attacked. That's when his world started to fall apart.

People always talked about life flashing before their eyes and that's pretty much what he experienced. That's why he wanted to make something of the friendship he had with the detective who actually held the key to his heart. That day could have very well been his last. And what would he have accomplished? Other than managing to fool most of the SBPD?

Climbing out of his bed he headed toward the window and peeked through the blinds. The sun shone on a beautiful day, the sky a clear sea of blue. A glance over his shoulder told him that it was well passed ten in the morning. He'd overslept but no one had come calling. What did that say? Shuffling toward the bathroom he stripped of the few garments he wore and started the shower. Today was going to be his now or never day. This is where it ended. He couldn't take the torture anymore. If he had to walk away without the prize at least he could do it knowing that he'd tried.

Showered and dressed he was ready to face the day- well, almost ready to face the day. He stepped out into the warm sun, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before heading toward the precinct. Usually he would have called Gus and had his friend give him a ride, just to annoy the hell out of him. He could have taken his motorcycle but today he felt like walking. It gave him more time to think and also time to clear his head; which is what he would rather do.

At the precinct he was surprised to see Gus' blue car. He frowned as he walked passed it, wondering the entire time why his friend was here without him. Was something going on that he wasn't aware of? Making his way up the steps to the front door he was even more pleasantly surprised to hear the commotion coming through the doors. What the hell was going on? He walked in and found the place to be full of crepe paper and balloons. Music streamed out of a stereo someone had placed on their desk. Judging by the platters of food that took up the available space he figured out that this was a party for someone's birthday. He should have known who exactly was celebrating their birthday but he'd been so out of it as of late…

"Shawn!"

He turned to find Juliet coming toward him. She had a paper crown on her head. "Jules," he said, forcing a smile and happy attitude. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you," she said, hugging him. "Want to stay for some cake?"

"Of course," he replied. "Ice cream?"

She smiled and waggled her eyebrows. "Ice cream cake."

"Sweet, the best of both worlds in one handy serving." He looked around. "You know, I didn't think you guys could pull this off without the chief getting mad."

"She's not here today."

"So the mice are at play."

"Precisely," she said, taking hold of his hand. "Come on, let's party."

He allowed her to pull him along through the throng of uniformed officers. Some of them were doing shots of soda as the premise of some strange game; others were dancing around the office to the beat of the music pulsing from the speakers. He saw Gus leaning back against Juliet's desk, a plate of food in his hand. The chair behind Lassiter's desk was empty. Shawn scanned the crowd but couldn't find the detective anywhere, though he wasn't exactly surprised. This didn't seem like Lassiter's sort of thing; he would have been all about getting his work done. When they reached her desk Juliet handed him a paper cup of soda and a plate with ice cream cake on it. He smiled despite himself. He really did like ice cream cake. And this one had chocolate chips. She excused herself a moment later when someone called her name. The minute she left Shawn put down the goodies. Ice cream cake or not, he was only here to have a word with Lassiter.

"Have you seen Lassy-face?" he asked.

His friend shrugged. "He muttered something decidedly unpleasant before gathering his things and heading that way," Gus pointed.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Gus said. "Hey, can I have your cake?"

"Go for it."

Shawn headed in the direction that Gus pointed and found himself in the hall that led to the interrogation rooms. It was far quieter here, away from the partiers. It made perfect sense and had he been at the top of his game he would have thought to look here himself. He walked slowly down the hall until he reached the very last room. He knew for a fact that Lassiter would be behind the closed door because this far back you couldn't hear a thing, almost like the party wasn't happening. In total Shawn fashion he didn't bother to knock on the door. He just pushed it open.

"Lassy!"

Lassiter jumped at the unexpected interruption, nearly falling over in his chair. "Dammit, Spencer! Why can't you knock like a normal person?"

"Uh, because I'm psychic so I'm like the farthest thing from normal."

"What the hell do you want? I'm trying to get my work done."

"All work and no play," Shawn said as he walked further into the room.

"Some of us actually have to make a living."

He sighed, plopping down in the chair facing the irate detective. He didn't say anything, just rested his forehead against the cool table. All that he could hear was Lassiter breathing and the beating of his own heart. This wasn't exactly going as planned.

"Spencer, something wrong?"

He looked up. "I'm leaving tomorrow." The idea had been bouncing around in the back of his mind on the walk over and now it seemed like the logical thing. He would disappear for a few months, travel around the country. His father would get pissed with him, Jules would miss him and Gus would actually get some work done. And he might just be able to work his way out of the funk he was slowly sliding into.

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

He shrugged. "A few months of traveling…"

"Why?"

Shawn stood. "Because I need to get away." He walked toward the door. "I need a change…" What he really wanted to say was that he couldn't stand to be around the detective anymore, not as merely a friend. He kept thinking about that time in the alley…that kiss. It sent a shiver down his spine. "I just thought I'd let you know I won't be bugging you for a while. No more annoying Shawn." He forced a smile. "Tootles, Lassy-face."


	11. Dark

**Title: **Frozen in Time**

* * *

**

**Eleven: Dark**

_Characterized by unhappiness, misfortune, and pessimism._

He somewhat absentmindedly packed his suitcase, having placed the ugly thing on his bed. He felt numb inside, something he had never experienced before. It amazed him to see how quickly life could spiral out of control and stop making sense. He wanted nothing more than to return to the person he'd once been. Why couldn't he run around like crazy, making wiseass remarks and driving Lassiter crazy? Well, he was still able to drive Lassiter crazy. As the detective's name crossed his mind he let the shirt he was folding fall into the suitcase atop the other clothes. When he'd told Lassiter that he was leaving he'd been hoping the detective would stop him, would say something to make him stay. Now he knew that all of his dreams were…dreams. He'd disappear for a month or so and come back, hopefully without the feelings that kept him awake at night.

When he was done packing he closed the suitcase and brought it out to the living room, setting it by the front door. Surprisingly he managed to escape the festive party without Jules or Gus noticing him. That didn't really surprise him. Over the last few weeks he started picking up little things here and there. Something was going on between the two of them, something that might end up being more than friendship. And Shawn was generally happy for them. He just wished…

Shaking his head before he let his thoughts worsen his mood he headed into the kitchen. A growl issued from his stomach as he started to search through the cabinets for something that looked even the slightest bit appetizing. But despite the fact that he was hungry nothing jumped out at him, and he left the kitchen, sinking into the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. At some point he was going to have to call his father to let him know about the impending trip. Part of him wanted to wait until he was already out of the city before placing the call. Something told him that his father wouldn't exactly be happy with him, not that that was anything new. The other part of him actually wanted his father to stop him, to keep him in the city. He couldn't let that happen. He needed to get away for a while to see if maybe he could find the part of himself that seemed to be missing; that carefree attitude.

He let his head rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Any moment now he expected Gus to walk through the door and start yelling at him for being crazy knowing that it wasn't going to be happen. It would be nice if it had. He thought about driving to the Psych office and leaving his best friend a message there instead of calling him. Gus probably wouldn't even stop by the place while he was gone so that would have been pointless.

He sighed.

He originally planned to leave the following day, now he couldn't even remember why he'd put it off. Making up his mind he decided that he would leave that night, a little before midnight when traffic wouldn't be crazy. It would allow him the chance to make good mileage before the sun rose and people found him gone. Looking at his watch he saw that he still had a few hours to kill. Without anything else to do he figured that he might as well catch-up on his sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Tossing and turning, Lassiter finally gave up on trying to sleep. He was physically exhausted, his body and mind ready for some down time. He still wasn't really making any headway on the double homicide. The chief would be in the next day and he would have nothing to tell her. He could already imagine the look on her face, the anger in her voice. And yet, none of it really mattered to him. It wasn't the unanswered questions about the case that kept him awake at night. No, it was something else entirely, something that he wasn't really ready to admit to himself.

Shawn, he couldn't sleep because of Shawn.

Even though hours had passed he still found himself replaying the conversation they'd had in the precinct. He knew that a part of him had hid during the festivities for the sheer fact that he _knew_ Shawn would come looking for him. That's how it played out, the fake psychic throwing open that door and startling him. And of course, being the usual ass that he was, he didn't say one nice thing to him. He could see that Shawn was hurting, could clearly see the change in the younger man and yet, he continued to be cruel to him. All because he was afraid to admit how he felt. Shawn's words played through his mind once again, the mentioning of the trip. Would he be able to last a month without Shawn's annoying behavior? Without his quirky way of solving cases?

Then he mentally stopped himself, a startling realization coming to him. When did he start referring to the fake psychic as Shawn? Even if it was only mentally…

"Fuck," he swore, sitting up in bed and throwing off the blankets. He padded across the room and grabbed his pants, slipping them on. He put on the shirt he'd worn to work only hours earlier, doing the buttons as he headed toward the front door. He tried to think about what all this meant for him. If he confessed that he liked Spencer, that he actually had feelings for him…he'd never live it down. His reputation at work for being a hard ass would go right out the window.

Nobody would let him forget.

Could he even change? Could he stop being so curt and rude with the man he was falling in love with? It would be a big change for him, one he wasn't entirely sure he could make.

Slipping on his shoes he checked his cell phone for the time. An hour until midnight. Was it too late to be calling on Spencer?


	12. Passion

**Title: **Frozen in Time**

* * *

**

**Twelve: Passion**

_Strong sexual desire and excitement._

Shawn was finishing with a few things, like making sure the trash was out, before he headed out the door. The thought of leaving home for a month made him feel melancholy. But it was something he had to do. He would miss his friends, especially Jules and Gus. When he got back would they be a couple or…? He would have to wait and see. Making sure that there was nothing perishable in his fridge he turned off the light and headed toward the door. It was almost midnight, almost time for him to hit the road and leave this place behind, temporarily. Where he was going, what he was going to do; none of that had been figured out. He decided to just let the road take him where it would, let the adventure surprise him. That way he wouldn't be counting days until he reached somewhere specific and he wouldn't be so concentrated on one goal. If his mind was forced to think about everything and anything there would be no room for thoughts of Lassiter. And that's exactly how he wanted it.

He was about to slip on his sneakers when there was a knock at his door. Frowning, he tried to think of who could possibly be calling on him at this time of night. The only person that knew he was leaving was Lassiter and as far as the detective knew that didn't happen until tomorrow. He thought about ignoring the caller, let them think he was asleep or gone, but the person knocked again, slightly louder than the first time. He found himself thinking about that night he went calling on Lassiter and fell asleep on his couch. But as quickly as the thought crossed his mind he forced it out again. There was no time for thoughts like that, not now, not ever.

Grumbling under his breath, he yanked open the door without even stopping to think that it could be some murderer or something along those lines. And when he saw that it was Lassiter who stood there looking at him, a part of him wished that it had been a crazy maniac. They would have been easier to deal with; this situation, whatever it was, would be hard to handle. The detective never called on him. Ever.

"Lassy-face," he said out of surprise but without the usual playful tone in his voice.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Uh, sure," Shawn answered, stepping back. He closed the door once Lassiter was inside. He looked at the detective, who had turned to face him; his hair a mess and his clothing wrinkled. The buttons on his shirt were all wonky; some of them having been missed in what had clearly been haste to put the garment on. "What can I do for you, Lassy? Do you need a bedtime story to help you sleep?"

An unreadable expression crossed the detective's face. "As happy as I am to hear you being a wiseass, can we cut the crap?"

"And?"

Lassiter had come over here with a purpose and now…he felt himself chickening out.

"If you came here to stand in my apartment without saying anything…talk about rude."

"Spencer…"

"How do you know that I wasn't entertaining someone or planning on going out?"

"Spencer…"

"You should count yourself lucky that I wasn't running around in the buff," Shawn said. "Nothing as liberating as not wearing a stitch of clothing in your own home."

"Shawn!"

He shut up, surprised not only by the fact that Lassiter had used his first name but also but the force behind it. "Yes?"

"If you would stop rambling long enough I might be able to get a word in edgewise," he barked. "I came over here for a reason." His train of thought tapered off as he noticed the suitcase sitting by the door and the fact that Shawn was fully dressed in the middle of the night. "So you really are leaving?"

Shawn nodded. "I figured I would head out tonight, get a jump on things."

"You…can't."

"Don't act like my father, Lassy. One of him is more than enough, thank you," Shawn replied somewhat dryly.

"Do you remember coming to my house?" Lassiter said, not sure where this was going but feeling the need to talk. Anything to keep Shawn from leaving. "Maybe you didn't realize but that following morning….sleep was hard to find that night. After seeing you today, after the conversation we had…I found myself unable to sleep again. You keep doing that to me; making it hard to fall asleep."

"Sorry," he apologized.

Lassiter took a step toward him.

Shawn took a step back.

"You…irritate the hell out of me on a regular basis. You stumble all over crime scenes and get yourself into trouble…" he took another step forward.

Shawn took yet another step back and found himself right up against the door. He was beginning to have a case of déjà vu. Hadn't they done something like this once already?

"You make it habit of getting in my way, of being a part of my life. You confessed to me that you had these feelings…" The detective stepped forward again, closing the distance between them.

Remaining silent, Shawn couldn't move. There was nowhere for him to go.

"And then you waltz into the precinct to tell me that you're leaving. Does that really seem fair?"

Shawn shook his head as Lassiter took one last step. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice coming out barely more than a whisper. "I…"

Lassiter didn't give him a chance to finish whatever it was that he had been about to say. He leaned forward, bringing their lips together. The touch sparked something inside of him, a feeling that he never expected to experience in his life. The intense feeling burned deeper when he realized that Shawn was responding in kind. He pushed all thoughts about their relationship and what the others would think out of his mind to concentrate on the here and now. The taste of Shawn on his lips, the warmth of the other man, the stirring below the belt. He couldn't believe that he was doing this but…it felt so right.

A shudder coursed down his spine when Shawn placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He was forced to throw his hands up to brace himself against the door so that he wouldn't hurt Shawn. The kiss deepened as their bodies were brought together, chest to chest. He could feel the frantic beating of Shawn's heart and it only worked at making the ocean of emotions inside of him angrier, hungrier. Ever so gently he broke the kiss, keeping his eyes closed and listened to the gasps of Shawn as he tried to catch his breath. It brought a smile to Lassiter's lips.

After a moment Shawn spoke, his voice quiet. "If this is your way of making me stay…"

"Hm?"

"It's working."

"That's good to hear."

"Just one minor problemo."

"Hm?"

"The whole doorknob in the back, not sexy, it's killing the moment."

Surprised, Lassiter chuckled. That sounded more like the Shawn he knew…and loved. He took Shawn by the hand and stepped back, tugging the fake psychic with him. "Then let's go somewhere more comfortable."


	13. Naked

**Title: **Frozen in Time

**Note: **And so the story ends. Pooh. It happened all too soon. But worry not, I have a much longer Psych fiction in the works.**  
**

* * *

**Thirteen: Naked**

_Not covered by clothing, especially having no clothing on any part of the body._

Lassiter never thought that he would fall in love with a guy or that he would end up in the bed of someone the same sex as him. But that's how it appeared to be happening. As he and Shawn fell onto the bed in a crumbled heap he realized that with every touch he was feeling something new, something that he'd never felt when he was married. His entire body felt like it was on fire, like he was going to burn from the inside out. Neither of them spoke, afraid that words would shatter the moment. Everything that had been building over the last few days finally had a chance to escape and it wasn't going to go lightly, passions raging. All he could think about was Shawn as the other man set about unbuttoning his shirt. He couldn't keep the moan inside when Shawn's hands touched his bare chest. Though a part of him couldn't believe that he was actually doing this another part of him wanted it to never end. Who knew that the fake psychic who could be so annoying could make him feel such strong emotions, set his very being on fire?

Before he knew it they were both naked, sweat already making their skin glisten in the pale moonlight that filtered through the blinds. He found himself aching for more, an unquenchable thirst that made him pull Shawn close. They rolled around, kissing and touching, disrupting the blankets. When they stopped Lassiter found himself looking down upon a sweaty Shawn. He noticed that there was more light in his eyes than there had been for the past few days. And at that moment he realized that he didn't care what the others thought, nothing they said would mean a thing to him, not after this.

With a few minor stumbles here and there they were eventually traveling down the same path, bodies pressed together, entwined, hearts beating as one. They continued to remain silent aside from the occasional moan or grunt of ecstasy. And then they were riding the high, the fire reaching its peak as names were called out. They collapsed into each other, breathless, spent. A lingered kiss was shared here and there as they both came back down. It took no time at all for the two of them to feel the effects, their bodies drained and exhausted. Shawn fell asleep first, a soft smile on his lips. As Lassiter drifted off he finally made sense of the conversation he'd had with Mr. Spencer a few days back; the one about not understanding and having to ask Shawn.

There was no question to ask Shawn now because he understood.

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When he next awoke the sun had filled the room with its presence, light chasing away the shadows of the night. He looked to his side to find the bed empty. Propping himself up on his elbows he tried to figure out where Shawn had gotten to. As if reading his mind the psychic walked back into the room clad in only his boxers.

"What time is it?" Lassiter mumbled, sleep's hold not having let go completely.

"Uh…almost nine."

"Shit," cursed the detective. He threw back the covers and began to scramble about the room picking up his discarded clothing. "I'm going to be late for work."

Shawn smiled and Lassiter was instantly reminded of the Cheshire Cat.

"Why…?"

"I already called the chief, told her you would be late," Shawn said.

Lassiter could feel the color draining from his face. "Spencer."

"I liked the way you said it better last night."

"And if you have any plans to hear it that again you'll hand me my pants," he said. "Please tell me you didn't mention they 'why' I was going to be late."

"And ruin the surprise? You should know me better than that Lassy."

He felt the familiar tug of a smile. It was like Shawn had never changed, his upbeat attitude slipping right back into the grind of day to day life. "I'm going to have to run home and change." Throwing on his remaining clothes he headed for the door.

Shawn followed him. "Expect to see me and Gus later…I can sense that today the universe has something in store for me. Maybe my psychic abilities will help you solve your case."

Lassiter was putting on his shoes. "Don't expect me to be nice to you. There are appearances that have to be kept up and that means I have to let them think you're annoying the hell out of me."

"How romantic," Shawn remarked. "And then you can home and we can make hot monkey sex."

"Don't call it that," Lassiter said as he headed out the door.

"How about sweet pineapple love?" he called down the hallway after him.

"Spencer!"


End file.
